


Take my grief and bury the key

by PerthroSeidraikiri



Series: hold your heart the way he holds your hand [4]
Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Denial of Feelings, Gen, Hurt/No Comfort, M/M, Mentions of Amaimon, Mentions of Henry Faust, Mephisto Pheles (Future and Past), Pining, Self-Reflection, Whump, character exploration, self-hurt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24912583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerthroSeidraikiri/pseuds/PerthroSeidraikiri
Summary: “Oh, yes, but I’m not going to deny that I am.” he drones, leaning forward, in front of his future self to let acid green eyes stare into each other, he cups his older self’s jaw and makes him look up, pressing the tips of his fingers hard  into the spot, “unlike you anyway.”It shouldn’t hurt to hear it from his past self, but somehow it stings just a little. Because who knows him better than himself?
Relationships: Mephisto Pheles (Present) & Mephisto Pheles (Past), Okumura Rin/Mephisto Pheles
Series: hold your heart the way he holds your hand [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774975
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Take my grief and bury the key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Just_a_useless_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_useless_writer/gifts).



> Is this self-hurt? Lmfao, idek.  
> But Past Mephisto is putting his future self on the spot and making him feel _emotions_. 
> 
> ps: **Mephisto** in bold refers to our present Mephisto.

“You’re being an idiot~” 

**Mephisto** has never hated hearing his own voice more than in that moment. The chirpy teasing tone that’s directed towards him has him rolling his eyes in annoyance, he feels a flick to his head but has no energy to growl to show his displeasure.    
  
“Which means you are too.” he murmurs instead, not turning to look at his side as his past self sits beside him, grinning with his chin in his palms as he looks at his future self. He’s much peppier, bubbly, and full of much more mischief than his future self. He’s so full of hope and  _ trust _ .   
  
Everything he’s lost, everything he’s looking for, exactly what he’s trying to find again but has no idea how to start.

It makes  **Mephisto** sick.

“Oh, yes, but I’m not going to deny that I am.” he drones, leaning forward, in front of his future self to let acid green eyes stare into each other, he cups his older self’s jaw and makes him look up, pressing the tips of his fingers hard into the spot, “unlike you anyway.”  
  
It almost sounds like pity.

But it shouldn’t hurt to hear it from his past self, but somehow it stings just a little. Because who knows him better than  _ himself? _

The sight of his past self smiling is enough to make  **Mephisto** up and leave. 

He knows that smile, he wears that smile when he thinks he knows everything. It’s a dangerous smile which he doesn’t want to be receiving from himself because he probably does know everything or he’s figured enough out for him to know the situation. 

“If you’ve come here to… do whatever you’ve come to do.” 

To be persuaded, that he’s sure of. 

“Insulting me… _ us  _ is not going to get you far.”

“I was just stating the obvious.” Is the reply that leaves his past self who has crossed his legs and is now sitting right in front of him, cheek leaning on his right palm.

**Mephisto** bites his tongue, “Just spit it out.” 

“What?” his past self questions, smug grin growing longer.

“I don’t have time for games.”

He watches with annoyance as his younger self’s lips split into a wide and completely amused grin before he bursts out laughing. Throwing his head back and guffawing like a drunk; slapping his thighs like he’s made a joke.

“Oh wow, have I really sunk that low?” he pokes  **Mephisto’s** cheek and pulls at it, “We always,  _ always,  _ have time for games!” His younger self chirps and shakes his head, more amused than ever, and wipes at the tears at the corner of his eyes.  Not the fun games, Mephisto thinks, never the fun games anymore. Not the games where he puts his heart and ego on the line, not the games that fill him with sentiment to overflow his empty mansion. 

Not the games that he knows will pull him into something he’ll regret yet somehow not deplore once he starts them.   
  
They both hear laughter from inside. Laughter that brightens his past self’s eyes and dulls  **Mephisto’s** own. 

“He loves you.” His younger self finally says, grin no longer present, amusement no longer dancing in his eyes. The words echo all around, deafening him as they ring in his ears over and over until it’s all he hears. 

Forcing him to acknowledge and accept. Trying to make him understand.   
  
He hears Rin exclaiming something and feels his shoulders tense, “Did he put you up to this?” 

“Who?”

“Who  _ else _ ?” He snaps. 

His younger self is just digging, trying to crack him open and he doesn’t appreciate it at all. He doesn’t appreciate this self-reflection he’s being pulled into, this self-acceptance that’s being pushed onto him like he’s some lost child. 

“He loves you.”

Three small words that he knows Rin says to him every moment even if he doesn’t utter them. 

**Mephisto** glares and moves to stand up, but his younger self grabs his shoulders and presses him back down hard, he feels the bones in his hips dig into the sides, the degradation that marks his shoulders spreads and numbs, even more, trickling down his spine slowly.    
  
“He loves you.” His younger self repeats again, it only amplifies the ringing in his head.   
  
**Mephisto** growls, trying to get up; but he’s exhausted, he has no energy to fight him back.

“He-”

“I know!” He roars, voice breaking as he does, “I know.”

He does, he’s accepted it… has he?

He looks up at his past self whose eyes glow with a disgusting amount of concern and worry.

“And, you love him.” His younger self adds, hold on  **Mephisto’s** shoulders tightening, “So, why do you keep doing this?”

Not for the last time, he questions himself again, even though he knows the answer. 

“Doing what?”

It’s as clear as day. It’s an answer that plagues his mind every time he thinks of  _ them  _ or looks at  _ them _ . 

And he hears it, he hears it in the silence that settles between then, he reads in his past self’s eyes, he feels it in the laughter that echoes from the house. 

_ Hurting them.  _ __  
__  
Yes, but who? He hears, his own voice now questioning him. 

_ You’ve hurt Henry. _

Henry’s bloody body, eyes scrunched in pain as he screams for Mephisto to stop flashes in front of him. Cheeks streaked with blood, eyes overflowing red, pleas, and begs escaping his lips in helpless whimpers.

_ You’ve hurt Amaimon.  _

Amaimon’s heart-wrenching sobs and accusations echo in his ears. His glares and his sighs. Gold eyes shining with tears and betrayal.

_ Do you really want to hurt him next? _

A smile, the brightest smile that Rin gifts Mephisto with everyday runs through his mind. A kiss that Rin tries to plant on his cheek everyday ghosts against it. 

The grip on his shoulders loosens when he stops resisting. The glow in **his** eyes returns as he glares threateningly at his younger self. 

“I don’t owe you any answers.” He hisses quietly and stands, turning to head back inside but is pulled back by a hand, his hand. 

Nails dig into the flesh of his wrist as his past self pulls him back, “No, you don’t." he replies, smiling with what Mephisto hates to accept is a reflection of what he truly feels and knows deep, deep inside, "But you owe yourself a thousand more.”

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this wonderful fic: [Nest of Wrens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21566998) by [Just_a_useless_writer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Just_a_useless_writer/pseuds/Just_a_useless_writer)
> 
> This was so fun to write!!!  
> Title from this song: [Aishite, Aishite, Aishite](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pipxvyQNSMg)


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